A guide to staycationing

I am currently on somewhat of an impromptu vacation. Because I am starting a new job in September, I decided to take some time off in between the old gig and the new gig.

The in-between-jobs vacation is the absolute best. No reason to stress about work that is piling up in your absence. No real idea of what you are walking into on the other side. There is truly nothing to worry about until you get to the new gig and find out just what it really is. Which makes for the best opportunity to truly clear your mind and relax.

Since I love to travel so much, I thought about taking a solo trip (Hubby did not have any more time off this summer). With Springsteen on a tour hiatus until September, I can't stalk him don't have any concerts to go and see right now. So I looked at other stuff. I've always wanted to go to San Francisco, and Hubby has no interest (weird, right?), so that crossed my mind. I toyed with the idea of throwing Fergus in the back of Rosie (the car) and taking a road trip down to the East Coast. And I contemplated travelling to D.C. to visit a friend or back to Manitoba to visit family. But everyone is complaining that it's been too cold and windy in San Fran this summer, I hate being in a car much more than an hour, D.C. is hotter than Hades in August, and I was already home this year to visit the family (love you, Mom!). So in the end, I decided that the absolute best way to unwind was to do as little as possible, as close to home as I could. A staycation!

After a week of staycationing, I now fancy myself an expert. And I want to share that expertise with all of you. So here you have it, my top ten tips for successful staycationing.

1 - Put that "to-do" list away!

Too many people waste precious staycation time by doing things around the house that need to get done. Like painting the spare bedroom. Or restoring that antique dresser you found at a garage sale three years ago. I say, put the paint brush and sand paper down! That's work, dummies! And you are supposed to be taking a break from work. Take a lesson from me. Here is the list of things that I have to get done at some point in time:

- pressure wash the deck;
- pick up the new lights that we ordered;
- return my cancelled EcoPass to OC Transpo;
- pick out a paint colour for our master bedroom;
- paint the master bedroom;
- bring Rosie in for a tune-up and a proper car-wash;
- price out contractors for replacing the carpet on the second floor with hardwood;
- make an appointment with the orthotics clinic.

And here is a list of items above that I have actually done this week:






That's right. It's a blank space. Because I haven't done any of that stuff! And you know what? I don't plan to either. And that's okay. Because I'm on staycation! Which is what I tell Hubby every day when he comes home from work and nags me about getting nothing done around the house.

That is one unused pressure washer...

2 - Read all the magazines

You know that pile you have that keeps stacking up and you never, ever, ever have time to read? And you look at it every single day and think to yourself, "Man, I have got to start reading these or else cancel that subscription!" Well don't cancel anything! Just tackle the magazines methodically during a staycation. I mean, what else are you going to be doing if you aren't crossing things off your "to-do" list? That's right, you are going to read-read-read. Whether your thing is celebrity gossip or hard-hitting news from around the world, pick up a magazine and thumb through those glossy pages. (Or slide your thumb across the iPad touchscreen - that's how I read them.) Get your magazine fix while you have time to do it!

And in case you are wondering, my pile consists of 4 back-issues of Vanity Fair and 2 of Modern Dog. Plus that big pile of Maison & Demeure that Hubby keeps insisting he wants me to flip through so that we can figure out how to decorate our dining room, but that feels too much like work for me when on staycation...

Tearing through some Vanity Fair

3 - Eat all the ice cream

I don't know what to say. I just really, really, really, really love ice cream. And so I have made it my personal mission during this staycation to eat as much of it as possible. Whether I make it myself or go out and get a big, honking ice cream cone or send Hubby to the grocery store to buy it for me, I have eaten an AWFUL. LOT. OF. ICE. CREAM. This will probably be a hard habit to break once the staycation is over. I may need ice cream rehab. Do they have that?

The ice cream maker getting a work out

4 - Exercise. But not too much...

I believe in giving your body a break just as much as I believe in giving your mind a break. So admittedly, I toyed with the idea of completely taking time off of all forms of exercise, save walking the dog.

Who am I kidding. That's my massage therapist talking. She thinks - and is probably right - that I have been overdoing it lately and that I should take some time off, or else she will continue to jab her pointy elbows into my glutes until I say "uncle". She's probably right. But since I am eating all of the ice cream, I need to do something. Or else I will grow out of all of my clothing.

So I've tried my best to taper. I've cut out lifting weights for a couple of weeks. And I've done a lot of yoga. A. LOT. Which is odd for me because I sortofkindofhateit. Luckily for me, I found a studio that I actually really like, just up the street in my 'hood - Yogatown. So I've gone almost every day. And now, when I fold foward, I can actually touch my toes without wanting to throw up. Yay flexibility!

I have also kept running. But I've committed to doing shorter and flatter distances. The operative words here are committed to....

There was that 8k run to Sandbanks Beach and back. But it wasn't my fault that it was 4k to get to the end of the beach. I had to run back, didn't I?

2k in + 2k of beach + getting back home = 3k more than I was supposed to run. Oops...

And it's not my fault that the cottage I was staying at is in the Gatineau hills, turning my mere 5k runs into glute-busting hill training sessions, is it?

Believe me when I say that this picture does not do justice to the steepness of this hill. And there were about six of them.

At least I could jump in the lake when I was done all that sweating!

Straight into the water with my running clothes on! That's gotta be therapeutic!

Okay, so how about this. Exercise as much, or as little, as strenuously or as moderately, as you want to. After all, it is your staycation. Just know that my massage therapist can rip into whatever ails you and fix you right up when you get back. She's awesome that way!

5 - Enjoy beautiful scenery

I took two mini-trips. One with Hubby and some other friends on the first weekend of my vacation to Prince Edward County, and one on my own into the Gatineau hills for a couple of days of vegging at a friend's cottage. Both involved:

- very little in the way of organized activities;
- extended periods of sitting (or laying) down and doing nothing;
- drinking too much wine; and
- eating too much food (including delicious ice cream).

In other words, they were perfect little getaways.

They were also in idyllic settings, offering beautiful vistas. At the risk of sounding all new-age-ey here, these sights were good for the soul. (Did I mention I was doing more yoga during this staycation? That's what happens... I get all zen on your assess...).

Prince Edward County

Sunrise in Prince Edward County. That's not Instagram, people. That's the real deal.

Cottaging in the Gatineau Hills. 

6 - Drink. Why not?

No trip to Prince Edward County would be complete without visiting a winery or two. After all, Hubby and I did purchase Huff Estates wine for our wedding celebration, and did mini-honeymoon at their beautiful Inn. So of course, we found ourselves back at Huff, where we could not help ourselves but to purchase their delightful rosé and their French style Cuvée. As next year will be our fifth wedding anniversary, and since we both agree that we don't want anymore bear-chasing adventures to celebrate, we also took the opportunity to book ourselves into the same room that we had on our mini-honeymoon. So next July 11th, there will not be a bear in site, but vineyards as far as the eye can see!

While touring around the County, we also discovered a craft distillery, Sixty-six Gilead Distillery (and if anyone knows how the heck to pronounce that, I would be grateful to learn. I was too shy to ask the owners, lest I show my ignorance...). I can't resist a good gin and tonic, so of course, I bought a bottle.

Vanna White-ing it up for the camera, and showing off my Loyalist Gin

And might I just say that it is delicious! Best damn gin I have tasted in a long time! So good that I am not whipping it out when I have friends over. I am keeping it all to myself! Same with the Rosé and Cuvée from Huff Estates. Sorry peeps. You get the "not-so-good" stuff when you come over to my place!

7 - Nap

Face it. We are a sleep deprived people. We have obligations: husbands, wives, dogs, kids, jobs, to-do lists, back-episodes of Modern Family eating up room on your PVR. We don't sleep nearly enough. So sleep, dammit! You've earned it. So what if it is only 2pm and there is ice cream to eat or wine to drink. Just close your eyes for a few moments, and let it take you where it takes you. Maybe you'll cat nap. Or maybe you'll do like me and spend two hours on a chaise lounge drooling all over your swimsuit. Who cares! Just nap. You'll feel so much better, I promise!

It's hard to snap a photo of yourself napping. But I did get one of the dogs napping. Right before I had my own little snooze.

8 - Go to the spa. A lot.

Faithful readers know that I dub myself a bit of a spa slut. At no point is this more true than when I am on a proper stay-cation. I mean, what else am I going to do if I refuse to touch my to-do list? Well, besides reading magazines and eating ice cream and doing yoga and drinking gin or wine and napping and running longer distances than I am supposed to.  Okay, so I'm a little busy doing all of these other fabulous things, but the point is that there is always room for self-improvement in our lives, and so we should always make time to go to the spa.

When I'm home, my fave place to go is the fabulous Forbes Beauty Co., a boutique spa that just opened in my neighbourhood and where I have decided to spend all of my money. So far on my staycation, I have had my nails done, my eyebrows done, a facial, and some waxing.

Perfectly sculpted eyebrows!

Why not blue nails - I'm staycationing!

(I'm not going to share pictures of waxing because this is a PG blog.)

And today, I am going back for a mani-pedi. Because I should look good for my first day on a new job, right?

(My god, I have a problem...).

9 - Spend quality time with (insert name here)

In my case, it's with Fergus. We've been inseparable this past week. Morning runs, casual bike rides along the river, leisurely afternoon strolls, fetch in the dog park. I even took him cottaging for the first time, where he hung out with me and a doggy pal. Unsurprisingly, Fergus loves the cottage. Although I couldn't get him to dock dive, and just barely convinced him to hop into the canoe with me (he is, after all, not a water dog), he did love zooming around the property, barking at boats out on the water, swimming in the lake, and sun-bathing during his afternoon siesta. I'm pretty sure that he wants us to get a cottage now. And who can blame him. It's a good life, as you can see by these photos!

Waiting at a construction stop to get to the cottage. (Notice the re-corked bottle of wine that I am bringing with me to the cottage. Waste not, want not.)

Puppies swimming

  

Looking out over the deck and contemplating life

My boys - Hubby visited for one day to read about wine and to nap

Surveying the lake from his perch upon the dock

10 - Write a blog post about your staycation

Why not? How else will you guys be able to plan a fabulous staycation of your very own?

You're welcome.

The best damn Saturday I've had in a while...

It's been a long time since I have had nothing to do on a weekend. No plans. None. Zero. Zilch. Absolutely nothing booked. Not a single thing that I have to do. No guests coming over forcing me to clean. No friends asking me to go out for dinner. No Bluesfest concerts - as fantastic as they were - luring me out to Lebreton Flats on a warm summer's eve. No urgency at work that has to be dealt with before Monday morning.

N-O-T-H-I-N-G.

It's heaven.

And so, I have spent a simply wonderful day, reconnecting with the things that I love the most. Like Saturday morning walks with the dog. And visiting the farmer's market. And cooking in my kitchen.

Here is simply the best Saturday that I have spent in such a long time, in pictures.

As do most Saturdays, the day started early, with the F-Bomb, in the Arboretum:

Braving the bugs and the long, wet grass

After 90 minutes of running around, time for a break...

Followed by a trip to a couple of local farmers' markets, where we picked up fresh, local produce for dinner.

From Preston Street Farmer's Market, some lovely fresh beets to make a salad:

And from the Main Farmer's Market at St. Paul University, some blueberries to whip up some ice cream:

Ready to go through the ice cream churner!

Where the ice cream magic happens!

Tada!

Then it was off to my favourite yoga spot for my favourite yoga class with my favourite yoga teacher.

Then back home for a pre-dinner drink while I toiled away in my kitchen...

Nothing like a G&T on a hot day...

...while Hubby and Fergus went for a walk. Having the house all to myself, I put on one of my all-time favourite albums, and sang at the top of my lungs...

See, I don't only listen to Bruce Springsteen...

...while I set about getting dinner ready:

Prepping a raw beet salad with feta and pear - thank you Jamie Oliver!

Oops - those peelers are sharp!

Time for a BBQ! Beer can chicken with Moroccan spice rub and baby potatoes

As dinner was cooking, we opened some wine. But not just any wine. A lovely rosé - a Tavel - that we brought back from Chateauneuf du Pape last year. Which screamed out to be paired up with some sweet black olives:

Memories of Provence - olives and rosé. Sigh...

Finally, dinner was ready. Protein, check. Starch, check. Fresh veggies, check. Flavour, check!

Now, time for dessert...

...and a movie or two.

Cheers, all. I hope your Saturday was as fabulous as mine!

In with the new

The first morning of 2013 could not have been more perfect. Although there was a little nip in the air (okay, a big nip in the air, as it was -22 with the windchill), there was not a cloud in the sky. So, with a fresh coffee in my hand and a broadcast of "This American Life" playing on my iPhone, Fergus and I set out for our first trip to the Arboretum of the new year. We spent two hours outside together, running through knee-deep-on-me and belly-deep-on-him snow, playing fetch, and greeting every dog that came our way. It was a perfect start to 2013. (Except for the part where I threw his fancy, brand new frisbee over the fence and into the parking lot of a Honda dealership.... Oops...)

Sitting nice, waiting for me to throw his frisbee 

Chewing on his frisbee

So much fresh snow!

Running through piles and piles of the stuff

We came home to a freshly cleaned house - including mopped floors - courtesy of Hubby. Which Fergus promptly messed up again by tracking snow and ice through the entire house. Nonetheless, it was nice to catch a glimpse of clean floors, if only for a millisecond.

The floors (and bathrooms and all other surfaces) were sparkling so because Hubby and I were getting ready to greet our nearest and dearest to our 8th annual New Year's Day Levee. What is a levee, you ask? Worry not. I did not know what a levee was either, until I married Hubby. A levee is a fancy word for an open house, and evidently, this is a very East coast thing to do on New Year's Day. Of course, it is normally the lieutenant governor of the province throwing such an event (for my American friends, that would be the Queen's representative). Hubby and I like to believe that we are equally important. And so while he finished cleaning, I rushed around my kitchen like a mad woman for 4 hours, putting the finishing touches on the way-too-much-food-again-this-year that I was preparing.

I will stop here and blow my own horn for a moment. I never, and I mean never ever ever, serve finger foods from a box. You know, the ones that come frozen and you throw them on a cookie sheet and bake them. No. Instead, I always make them from scratch. Which amounts to an awful lot of stress for a few hours days. This year's menu included:
- goat cheese crostini with blood orange and black pepper marmalade;
- marinated chicken kebabs with lemon pepper yogurt sauce;
- mini crab cakes;
- homemade hummus and pita chips;
- figs and mascarpone cheese wrapped in prosciutto;
- veggies and dip;
- homemade chocolate chip cookies;
- homemade rum balls; and
- strawberry, lime and champagne cocktail.

Why do I make the holidays even more stressful by going through all this trouble? Because I like to cook. And because I like my friends. And this is my little way of showing them how much I like them.

(But mostly because I have an A-type, ultra-perfectionist personality, and I can't stand the thought of not being the best hostess in the whole world).

Delicious! (And yes, those are Winnipeg Blue Bombers oven mitts in the background...) 

Still delicious, but from another angle. With Fergus supervising form the background. 

There is always booze at a New Year's Day Levee. Including champagne punch. Hair of the dog and all... 

All those tears and that swearing that work is worth it once we open our doors to our friends, who trickle in and out in shifts throughout the day. And really, is there any better way to usher in the New Year? Well, if there is, we haven't found it yet. Which is why next year, we will surely host the 9th annual levee at the same time next year. Although perhaps next time, we will leave Fergus somewhere a little more quiet, as all of the in-and-out and doorbell-ringing is a little stressful on his overly excitable mind...

And so with that, my friends, I bid you the happiest of starts to your New Year. I hope that your 2013 started with a bang, as did mine, and that you make the most of your time with family and friends this year.

Dogs have food issues too...

Aside from dog shows, I've been known to waste countless hours in front of the television watching episode after episode of X-Weighted, The Biggest Loser, and The Last Ten Pounds Bootcamp. It's probably because I used to struggle with weight myself, so I can relate to the stories of people trying to overcome their unhealthy lifestyles.

The common thread in all of these stories is food. Sedentary lifestyle aside, food is by and large the biggest demon against which many of us who have been overweight struggle. It is an easy and undemanding partner. It doesn't judge you because you messed up at work or because your purse and your shoes clash. It cheers you up, relieves your stress, alleviates your boredom, and even celebrates your victories.

There is, after all, a reason they call it "comfort food"...

People aren't the only beings who have an unhealthy relationship with food. I know this because I have ended up with a dog who has to fight a few food demons of his own.

Before we even met him, we learned that the Beast may have certain unhealthy food tendencies. More precisely, his Humane Society record indicated that he demonstrated food aggression. Yikes!! Watch an episode of The Dog Whisperer where Cesar helps a family deal with food aggression and you will understand my concern. A food aggressive dog thinks that he is the Alpha, and wants to control food and feeding. He will do whatever he can - growling, snarling, and even biting - to protect HIS food. This is a potentially dangerous behaviour, not only because it can lead to a serious bite, but also because it will hurt your relationship with your dog, leading to a never-ending cycle of aggression, fear and mistrust.

So yes, I was more than a little intimidated to hear that the dog I was being asked to adopt had food aggression. Our relationship almost ended before we even met. But the Beast's foster mom assured me that she had never seen any signs of it. He definitely liked his food - A LOT - but had never once growled, snarled or lunged at her or her other dogs when she fed him.

Queue the big sigh of relief.

Just as a precaution, though, we visited our dog trainer before we even brought the Beast home for some preemptive advice on claiming the Beast's food and teaching him that eating was our decision, not his.

When he came home, we were ready to claim that food bowl and to show him that we were the bosses! What we did not anticipate was the crazed hurricane of excited drool that whipped through our living room the first time that we reached for his food dish. He'd never even eaten from it yet but he just seemed to know that it was for food. This is how he earned the nickname "Tasmanian Devil" - because he kept jumping around and around and around and around in the exact same spot, over and over again, panting as though he had just run a marathon, ears straight up, pupils completely dilated, and mouth wide open in a ridiculous grin. I got dizzy just watching him (and when I tried to imitate it once to show a friend what he was like, I thought I was going to throw up). He would only stop his cyclonic dance long enough to try to put his nose in the dish while it was still in my hands.

I've fed a lot of dogs in my life, but I have never seen anything like this!

Still, there was no growling, no snarling, no baring teeth. We wondered if this was just a quirky puppy behaviour that he would grow out of with time. And truthfully, it was kind of cute to watch him throw triple axel after triple axel on our living room floor. We would have probably been willing to accept it had we not had this aura of Humane Society-observed food aggression hanging over our relationship. So we had to claim that damn dog bowl, no matter how much drool would puddle on our floor and no matter how many scratch marks would be left on the laminate.

I worked out a system where I would approach the Beast with the dog dish behind my back. This way, although he still jumped like a deranged kangaroo, he couldn't put his nose in the dish and try to eat everything. Then I would stand there - with all the calm energy that I could muster - until his ass would hit the ground. It wasn't a real sit, because he was bouncing around like he was having muscle spasms throughout his entire body, but it was as calm as he was capable of being, so it would have to do for now. Then I would lower the dog dish - still behind me - and use my body to block him from trying to get around to dive right into it (which he tried to do every time). Once he would "sit" again. I would step back, with a leg on either side of the dog dish, and let him eat while I stood over him.

He had no trouble with me being over him as he ate. He even ate some of his food right from my hand - supposedly a very good sign. But boy, did he ever eat FAST. You could stick a hoover hose in the dog dish and it could not have sucked up the dog food as quickly. All his ancestral and wild doggy instincts were screaming at him that it would be a long time before the next successful hunt, so he'd better EAT RIGHT NOW! I was convinced that he would choke himself the way that he was going.

Over the next few days and weeks, he and I settled into a routine. He laid down on his bed while I got his food ready. I put the food down on the ground for him so long as he was calm. Before he could eat, we would give me eye contact and then wait for my signal. As for the eating too quickly, I learned that if I walk away instead of hanging over him, he remains calm and eats at a reasonable pace. Stress-free feeding ritual! Yay! Success! I do NOT have a food aggressive dog.

Not so fast...

Kibble is one thing. Bones, on the other hand...

We thought fresh bison bones could be a nice weekly treat for the Beast, the same way that we often give ourselves food treats on the weekends. And since we had mastered the art of claiming his food, it shouldn't be so hard to master the art of claiming a bison bone.

But there is something more primal about a bone.

The Beast went through the entire feeding ritual with no problems. Lie down, stay calm, make eye contact, wait for the signal, get the bone. But this time, as soon as the bone went into his mouth, he growled at me. Then he snarled. Then he ran into his crate to protect the bone.

Well I wasn't going to put up with that, so I followed, and without thinking, down I went to pick up the bone. And what did the Beast do? He lunged at me, and came within millimeters of drawing blood. "Get away from MY bone," he said, and he meant business.

So he does have food aggression.

I'm truly not exaggerating when I say that my heart broke just a little.

The bottom line is that I do not want a dog with food aggression. I'm not experienced enough to know how to deal with it. I'm not very calm by nature, let alone when a dog is growling, snarling and biting at me. And I'm just not willing to have a dog try to position himself as kingpin in MY home. So what the f&$k was I going to do?

Well, I guess I was just going to have to get that damn bone back. So I picked up a corn broom and walked over to the corner of the back yard where the Beast had taken his prize while I recovered from my near-bite-experience. As soon as I approached, the Beast started to growl, low and guttural. I moved a little closer and he snarled, showing his long, sharp teeth. I put the corn broom down beside his snout, and he snapped at it immediately, which gave me the opportunity to cover the bone with the broom.

Frankly, I didn't know him well enough at the time to know whether he would lunge at my face next. Still, we spent the next five minutes staring each other down. He kept growling, snarling, and lunging at the broom, with every hair on his body standing on end. I stood as tall as I could under the circumstances, reminding myself to take deep breaths to calm myself down, even though I was seriously frightened.

And then, he gave it up. Just as suddenly as he had lunged at me 10 minutes earlier, he stopped growling, casually got up, and walked away from me, from the broom, and from the bone. As for me, well, I reached down, picked up the bone, threw it in the garbage, let out a huge sigh of relief, and then started to cry. I cried because I was scared. I cried because I was angry. I even cried because the thought occurred to me that we would have to give him back...

But then, as he so often does, my calm and logical husband stepped in to insert some reason into my frazzled state. He told me to stop putting so much pressure on myself to "fix this dog" right away. He told me that I couldn't be expected to know how to deal with every behaviour issue. He reminded me that I had actually just succeeded in claiming a victory over the dog and over the bone. And he reassured me that we would figure this out together.

He also told me to get rid of the bison bones.

The solution, of course, is not that simple. In the past three months, we've found at least one other food aggression trigger: his food puzzle that we use to crate him. Just this morning, the Beast tried to bite my husband when he went to take it away. We had to spend a few extra minutes with a hockey-glove covered hand (just in case) resting beside the food puzzle until the Beast backed away from it.

It still upsets me every time, although admittedly, it happens less frequently. And it hasn't eroded our trust or hurt our relationship. Partly because I am learning that there is a difference between having a food aggressive dog, and having one who just occasionally feels the need to assert his dominance in the household. The Beast is in the latter category. My job is to remind him that hubby and I are the leaders, and I can't do that if I am always freaking out about his eating habits.

I'm also learning to cut him a little bit of slack. After all, I turn to food for comfort every now and then. If I can have a few food issues, I suppose it's only fair that the Beast does too...